


light a match (we all turn to ash)

by supervisorhob (caughtinkhanded)



Series: things you said [3]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Angst, F/M, Requited Love, but they aren't together, for now, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caughtinkhanded/pseuds/supervisorhob
Summary: things you said but not out loud; this is for the best, this is the only way. the only way to keep her alive is to break both of your hearts.





	light a match (we all turn to ash)

**Author's Note:**

> moderately angsty and i would say unresolved ending. also alex swears a fair amount fyi.

 

You always knew it would come down to this. You couldn’t hang on to this sliver of happiness for forever. That was foolish. You are not a foolish man.

 

You cling to logic like a child does a security blanket. Skepticism is your nightlight, warding against the darkness of possibility and belief. Your instinct has become rationality because that is all you have left.

 

And yet, somehow still, there is a part of you that wants to believe in it all. In magic and demons, and true love and the end of the world. It’s all very poetic in the darkest way. And your heart aches, your poor abandoned heart, buried beneath rationality and logic and all too delicate ribs.

 

The part of you that dares to believe, to hold out hope is the part of you that agreed to meet with some journalist from Seattle. It’s the part of you that is willing to turn your back on years of absolute denial in favor of looking beyond. But it’s still only a very small part of you.

 

And it will not win out this time.

 

No, now is the time for logic and detachment.

 

(Most certainly not the time for wondering about the myriad of colors that dance in Alex’s eyes when she smiles at you.)

 

“Richard, are you still with me?” Coralee’s voice should be a welcome breath of air. But it’s not. It just feels like a weight pressing down on your already battered heart.

 

“Hmm? Yes, sorry, I was just thinking.”

 

Coralee’s grin is wry and just a little bit sad. “A dangerous pastime.” She reaches across the table to rub his hand before continuing, “My friend has a clean identity for you. Once you’re out of Seattle, you’ll go to this hotel. You’re going to need to alter your appearance slightly. There will be some hair dye and a change of clothes waiting for you here.” She presses a perfectly manicured nail against the faded piece of notebook paper. (Alex’s nails are always half-bitten and covered in chipped polish in every color possible)

 

You shake your head slightly, trying desperately to push any thought of Alex out of your head. You’re doing this all for her. You need her to be safe.

 

“Got it.”

 

“Richard.” Your heart wants to scream from the pressure on it. “You can’t tell anybody where you’re going. They won’t stop until you’ve been eliminated or they are all dead. You can’t say a word, not even to Alex Reagan.”

 

You flinch slightly at the sound of her name from Coralee’s lips. “I won’t. This is the only way.” That has become your mantra. The only way to survive. The only way to keep Alex safe. The only way forward.

 

The only way. The only way. The only way.

 

“Here, take this burner phone. I’ll call tomorrow morning at 5 to give you the go ahead.” Coralee forces the phone into your hand. Everything feels numb. As if you’re watching somebody else’s life.

 

Be logical. Be rational. Be skeptical.

 

“Okay. I will await your call.”

 

She stands up, tugging a long coat on that reeks of sophistication and expensive perfume. And she is almost unrecognizable with the woman you once loved. “Richard, I’m serious. You can’t tell anybody. If you tell anybody, their lives will be in danger.”

 

You nod mutely. Any response you could formulate is cut off by a buzzing in your pocket. Coralee leaves with one last pitying glance. When did you become something to pity? How had your life fallen apart? Had your life ever been together?

 

_AR [7:18 PM]: are you at your father’s house? I’ve got some stuff I want to go over with you._

_RS [7:20 PM]: I’ll be there in about five minutes. Come over whenever._

You smile slightly to yourself as you leave the bar. She’s the only one who calls it your father’s house not your house. Because it will never be yours. It is not home.

 

There is the lightest dusting of mist as you walk home. But you don’t notice it. You’re far too preoccupied by what you must do.

 

You hate lying. It twists at your soul. It stabs at your heart.

 

It’s all you seem to do these days: Suffer and lie, often at the same time.

 

Alex is sitting on your front step, engrossed in whatever research she had brought over for you. She looks so unlike Coralee, it makes your heart sing happily. But your heart is irrelevant. (But it is the only thing keeping you alive in every sense of the word)

 

She looks ethereal with the mist caught between her hair and the front porch light. “Hey,” her eyes are so tired and aged beyond her years and yet another thing that you have ruined. “Twilight walk?”

 

“Something like that.” You say and your voice sounds wrong to you. And based on the concern that overwhelms Alex’s eyes, she hears it too. “You said you wanted to show me something?” You fumble for your keys in your jacket pocket.

 

(In another world, in another lifetime, you would be purposefully fumbling with your keys. Hoping to get a goodnight kiss from a beautiful woman, a woman who looks at you like you hold the keys to the universe; but it is not that world.)

 

Alex is quick on your heels as you enter the dark house.

 

You have been to a number of “haunted” places in your years and none of them felt as eerie as your father’s home. You didn’t believe in spirits or ghosts or whatever nonsense people were using nowadays. But there was a lingering presence of your father and it set your nerves on end.

 

Alex’s voice registers somewhere in the back of your mind. Some discovery of an ancient text, but you can’t be bothered to actually comprehend what she’s saying.

 

You drift through the house towards the kitchen. You need to do something with your hands. The desire, no, the compulsion to tell Alex everything is warring inside of you and it’s taking every ounce of your strength not to break.

 

You’re midway through filling your kettle with water when Alex asks sharply, “Dr. Strand, are you okay?”

 

You look up with her and every fiber of your being wants to scream no.

 

“My apologies, I just have a lot on my mind that’s all.” Is what you actually say. “Tea?”

 

A crease appears in Alex’s brow and your fingers twitch at your side, desperate to smooth it out. “Uh, yeah, sure.” She leans her hip against the counter, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Penny for your thoughts?” She says a few moments later after you’ve placed the kettle on the stove top.

 

“Hm? Oh, it’s not relevant.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know it was the wrong thing to say. A flash of hurt bursts behind Alex’s eyes and her shoulders drop forward ever so slightly.

 

“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to help.”

 

Anger swelled within your chest and there was little you could do to suppress it. You were angry. Angry at her for caring about you. Angry at your father for starting all of this. Angry at Coralee for forcing you to flee without a fight. Angry at the world for being so harsh and cruel.

 

But most of all angry at yourself for being the one to hurt everyone around you. You were King Midas, but instead of gold everything turned to ash in your grip.

 

Alex begins to fill the silence with talk about the podcast and work and it only causes your anger and frustration to grow.

 

You pinch at the bridge of your nose, pushing your glasses down a bit. Alex’s voice slows slightly and you can feel the concern radiating off of her in waves.

 

Before she can ask you again if you’re fine, you insert sharply, “You know what, Ms. Reagan,” out of the corner of your eye, you see the slightest flinch, but you press on, “I’m really not in the mood for all of this right now.”

 

“Did something happen?” Alex asks, the words practically tripping over themselves to leave her mouth. “Is it Coralee or Charlie?” Her eyes widen momentarily with the expression of one who has inadvertently stepped on a landmine.

 

You know it’s not her fault, but something deep inside of you is so wounded you lash out like a wounded animal. “I would prefer you stay out of my personal life. I do not believe that it is directly relevant to our work.” Already Alex seemed hurt, but his mouth apparently was going in direct defiance of his heart. “In fact, one might say that your incessant prying is entirely unprofessional.”

 

The last word hangs in the air for a moment, expelling toxicity and pain.

 

Alex’s eyes, her whole body in fact, come to life, blazing and sparking. “Unprofessional? Unprofessional?” You steel yourself for the dynamite you have lit. “What are you even talking about? We have spoken about this so many times. You can’t just keep using the same fucking arguments. I have apologized for the times where I have overstepped and I fully admit that I was wrong. But now you accuse me of being unprofessional? That’s so fucking out of line, Strand.”

 

You want to stop the pain blooming in her eyes. But you can’t. You have to lie. This is for the best. This is the only way. Make her hate you, your mind says logically; your heart screams at you for being a fool. But logic wins out.

 

“I’m out of line?” You spit back at her. “I am not the one who has deliberately twisted my words for your work. You have complicated my personal life and my career beyond belief. And you say I’m out of line.” You take a step closer to her, boxing her in. “You just don’t know when to stop. You have no pretense of lines. Our work should’ve been done long ago. I shouldn’t have called you back after the Torres case, but I did and I regret that.” I regret not telling you how I feel. I regret dragging you into this mess. I regret the fact that I am poisonous to everyone I care about. But I could never regret you, his heart screams again. But still he ignores it.

 

“Nobody has forced you to keep working on the show. You could’ve left at any point.” Alex snarls, anger only highlighting the color in her eyes. “I have never made you stay. I have given you as much space as you’ve wanted. You left for three months and I let you.”

 

“Why are you still doing this?” he asks, “You’re the one who won’t let this, me go. Why do you care so much? None of this is relevant to you. You can just move on with your life. Return to normal. You-“

 

“No, I can’t.” Alex, despite her diminutive height, seems to tower above you.

 

“And why pray not? What makes you feel obligated to insinuate yourself in my life? To force the issue?”

 

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamn it!” She blurts out and looks horrified. “No, no, I mean-“

 

“I think you should leave.” You hear yourself say coldly.

 

Alex crumples in on herself and all you want to do is wrap her in your arms. But then she would be destroyed. This is for the best. This is for the best. This is for the best.

 

Alex then lifts her chin, a shaky mask in place, desperately calling out to you to stop this pain. She blinks once, twice, three times before turning away from you, grabbing her bag and coat as she leaves.

 

The door slams.

 

The kettle whistles cheerfully behind you.

 

O-o-O-o-O

 

You haven’t slept. You couldn’t. Not without Alex’s brokenhearted face appearing before you. You tried to plead with her, tried to explain, but the darkness consumed her.

 

You lingered like a spirit in the house, barely there.

 

You spoke briefly to Coralee who confirmed the details of your disappearance.

 

She said you needed to leave Seattle right away.

 

You can’t do that. You find yourself parked in front of Alex’s building, a letter burning a hole in your pocket.

 

Your body seems to be on autopilot while your heart lays in shattered pieces next to your kettle.

 

You slip the letter under her door and flee. You can’t bear to see her face.

 

The sun is just beginning to peak out from the horizon as you exit Seattle.

 

You can picture her in your mind’s eye. Dark bruises beneath her warm eyes, betraying the darkness she fears. Hair mussed from sleep or lack thereof. A steaming cup of coffee that has become her lifeblood.

 

(In another world, in another lifetime, you could be there with her. Pressing a cup of coffee into her hand followed by a kiss. You could see her smile, which is so much like a blinding sunrise. But this is not that world.)

 

In this world, you are King Midas. You destroy everything you touch. You destroyed her and you will never forgive yourself for that.

 

O-o-O-o-O

 

_Dear Alex,_

_First of all, I want, no, I need to apologize. For everything. For last night. For every argument before that. For the fact that I have ruined your life. For the fact that I had to break your heart._

_I never meant to fall in love with you. I never even meant to take an interview with you. But you were persistent and I respected that. And then I met you and you were not what I expected._

_I’m afraid that my affection for you has put you in harm’s way more than you could ever know. And for this reason, you will most likely never see me again. I cannot live with myself if my actions have put you in danger._

_I will disappear. I will make sure that Thomas Warren, or the Order of the Ceonophus, or whatever they are calling themselves, never gets close enough to hurt you._

_I am not doing this out of some perverse hero complex, I promise. I am no hero. Coralee received a tip that they may try to hurt you, but if I am gone there is no reason to._

_Please don’t try to find me. I beg of you. It will mean this is all for nothing if you get hurt._

_I am sorry again._

_I love you._

_Richard Strand_

**Author's Note:**

> i may write a follow up. 
> 
> feel free to yell at me here or @ jvn-erso.tumblr.com 
> 
> ~ebh


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